Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Singapore and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing David Axelrod to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Maurizio. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Fat Boys,
Dorothy Ashby,
Schoolly D,
Scan 7,
The J.B.'s,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Carl Craig,
Roxette,
Trumans Water,
Radio Birdman,
Ronan,
Ice-T,
Aural Exciters,
Essential Logic,
Television,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eve St. Jones,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Fugs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Tremeloes,
Letta Mbulu,
Lyres,
Gichy Dan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Moody Blues,
Reagan Youth,
Kool Moe Dee,
Audionom,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Monks,
Smog,
Make Up,
Tres Demented,
Absolute Body Control,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Residents,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jerry's Kids,
Roger Hodgson,
Can,
Livin' Joy,
Derrick May,
Eurythmics,
Tropical Tobacco,
Crooked Eye,
Lower 48,
Colin Newman,
Fluxion,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Circle Jerks,
Gang of Four,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Beau Brummels,
Matthew Bourne,
Nik Kershaw,
David McCallum,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Anakelly,
Soft Machine,
Heaven 17,
Gang Green,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.